The Virgin
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Hermione Black is in for a surprise on her wedding night. That's all I'm going to say. Non-canon from... oh, let's say the fourth book onwards, shall we? Disclaimer inside. Rated to be on the safe side.


"The Virgin"

They lay in the honeymoon suite side by side, victims of a marriage law.

Well, sort of.

Unbeknownst to the wizarding population of Britain, things could have turned out much worse. The original discussions had been plans to force Muggleborns to marry purebloods so that squibs would not result from inbreeding. Fortunately, someone had pointed out what should have been obvious from the start: Muggleborns were not purebloods, thus they should not be subject to such a law.

Therefore, the law passed was that purebloods could not marry other purebloods… and that was it.

"Why did you want to marry?" Hermione asked, glancing at Sirius. He looked straight back at her, still fiddling with the corner of the sheets. "No one forced you to."

"I like the idea of having a family of my own," he said. He twisted the fabric a bit more. "Maybe if I hadn't missed Harry's childhood I wouldn't… wouldn't _crave_ fatherhood the way I do."

"I see," she said, staring down at the pattern of the bedspread at their feet.

"No one was forcing you to accept my proposal," Sirius reminded her. He finally dared to reach out for her hand. It gravitated into his grasp without a thought from its owner. Both shivered from the touch, fire shooting through their arms.

"I didn't want to let you down," she whispered, looking back up into his eyes. "I…"

"Are you okay, Hermione?" he asked when she paused.

"Sirius, I know what we have to do," she said. "Just… please be gentle with me. I'm… I'm a virgin."

He closed his eyes briefly and smiled. "I hoped you were. Tell me: was I your first kiss?"

"Yes, actually." She blushed furiously. "I thought that I was too young with Viktor and then the war got in the way. No one really appealed to me." _Except you_, she added silently. "I know that you're much more experienced than me…"

"What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Your reputation…" She trailed off. "And you're a grown man! I mean, surely at Hogwarts…" he shook his head, "before Azkaban…" another shake of the head, "_after_ Azkaban?"

"Hermione," he said, and he pulled her hand closer, "there's something you clearly don't know about pureblood tradition."

"What should I know, Sirius?"

"Well, Mrs. Black," he said, and he shuffled nearer to his young bride, "as you know most pureblood marriages are arranged. Anyone who has been promised to someone else, or who is likely to be promised, must abstain from, uh, 'carnal pleasures'," he cleared his throat, "so that they remain pure until marriage. Conception can't be risked, either, until the wedding night. To that end, knowing teenage hormones, even kissing was forbidden before marriage. Muggles used to do that, too, didn't they?"

"Yes," Hermione said. Her breathing was shallow. "Sirius, do you mean… are you a…"

"A virgin? Yes, I am." He shrugged, smiling unashamedly. "I never even indulged in a one-night stand, no matter what you've heard from Molly Weasley."

"Really?"

"'Loving and leaving' isn't the noble thing to do," Sirius told her. "Gryffindors are supposed to be noble, remember?"

"Oh, Sirius," she whispered, cupping his cheek with her free hand. "Aren't you wonderful? And… you chose me."

"Yes," he said. He smiled shakily. "I fell in love with you, shamefully, when I saw a picture of you at the Yule Ball in your fourth year. I'd never allowed myself to see a young girl as anything other than a young girl… but you looked like a young woman, and I completely lost my heart. That's why I wanted you to be my first."

Hermione giggled and he pulled back, the smile disappearing as if he'd been struck. She was immediately filled with horror and grabbed his shoulders, tilting him towards hers.

"Sirius, don't be like that," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just thinking about how it's usually the… the woman who says that, not the man."

"Yeah," he said, looking down. He noticed that the sheets had slipped lower but dragged his eyes up to a point above her left shoulder. He wouldn't be that person.

"I love you," she said. He felt his heart stop but still didn't look at her. "Sirius, I love you! That's why I accepted your proposal," she admitted. "I want you to be my first, too." Then she took the initiative and kissed him.

It wasn't long before Sirius had her on her back. They were equal in experience, and his heart – which had started up again – was pounding against his ribcage. Her lips were soft and warm and slightly moist. She pressed up against him, but they eventually had to part for oxygen.

"I always felt," he panted, "that kissing the wrong person… would be betraying… my true love." He held her face and touched her nose with his. "Call me romantic, but it's true. And now you're all mine… and I'm all yours."

Never had Hermione thought that she would see this side of Sirius Black, but it made her fall in love with him all over again. And while their first time lacked finesse and did involve the pain of Hermione's deflowering, they had many years – decades, in fact – ahead of them, and things could only get better.

* * *

><p><strong>This idea came to me one day. When you think about it, a marriage law would only be practical if there were no magical children born of Muggle parents; in other words, if a magical parent were required for a witch or wizard to be born. Only purebloods would have to be subject to any kind of law, as I have said above, because Squibs are only likely to result between two purebloods.<strong>

**After all, isn't that what Charity Burbage was saying in her article? Meh.**

**Please review! Kind of kooky story, I know, but I aim to improve.**

**I'll pop the disclaimer here (right at the bottom): I don't own Harry Potter – that would be Ms. Rowling – nor am I making any money from this. If I was, it would probably be better. Sigh.**


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